


Us Against the World

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [27]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Escape, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kidnapping, Medical Experimentation, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7951234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something sinister going on in Central City, starting with the strange disappearance of meta-humans almost as soon as they appear. Iris West is about to find out first-hand, but she'll soon realize she's not quite as alone as she thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Us Against the World

**Author's Note:**

> I've been going through my old writing and I just realized I never uploaded this one. I know exactly the reason why--a million years ago, I had plans to edit and add to this, to make it into this whole elaborate multi-chaptered au incorporating a whole bunch of other characters and detailing this whole world where the military captured and experimented on metahumans and how these characters formed their own little family trying to evade them; seriously, this little section would've fit in somewhere in the middle, like I even had a loose outline for where I wanted to go with it. But that was such a long time ago and honestly I completely forgot about it and at this point I'm not optimistic that I'll ever get it written, so I might as well upload this as it is.

About a million questions had run through her mind since she’d been taken, questions that she’d shouted and snapped and demanded from the people in the ominous white lab coats that had brought her here, and yet she hadn’t yet gotten an answer to one–not from them, at least.

_Who are you? Where am I? Where are you taking me? What did I do? Why are you doing this?_

She thought she sort of knew the answer to some of those already.  _What did I do?_ Well, she hadn’t actually done anything, nothing  _wrong_  at least, nothing she could think of, other than having powers. Really lame ones, too–but powers all the same. She was being punished for being able to do things that other people couldn’t, for ‘posing a threat’–although how much of a threat she actually posed was up for debate. 

 _Why are you doing this?_  She spat out a mouthful of blood as one of mystery men hit her across the face for daring to ask again. She swallowed the rest of the blood and forced the bile down in her throat, gritting her teeth and resisting the urge to puke all over their ugly white coats. She knew the answer to that, too, she thought bitterly.  _Because I’m different._

She was well aware of the bias against people like her, and she’d heard whispers of these kind of covert operations to round up her kind, to capture and detain and test and torture and ultimately to use, but she’d never really expected it would happen to her. Mostly because from the stories that she’d heard, they were trying to turn people into weapons. All things considered, she didn’t really think she’d make a good weapon, or that her abilities really had much use at all, but…maybe they had something else in mind. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

She tried to keep track of where they were going, but it was dark and they lead her down lots of long hallways, deliberately making twists and turns every which way, and her mind was already tired enough. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a heavy, secure-looking metal door, almost like a safe, except on the outside there were warning signs– _Warning: subject high risk for escape. Warning: Dangerous_. Stuff like that. She was baffled at first–because  _her_? Dangerous? Where on Earth had they gotten  _that_  idea from? She couldn’t actually do anything destructive with her power–at least no more destructive than a normal human could. 

Before she could contemplate it further, they punched in a code and the door opened with a load groaning noise, revealing a cramped, box-shaped little room. They threw her roughly into it, finally relinquishing their bruising grip on her arm. She hit the ground with a painful  _thud_ , her legs crumpling beneath her. By the time she was able to push herself off the ground and scramble back to her feet, they were already long gone, and if she’d learned anything from her trip down to…wherever this was…it was that shouting wasn’t going to do her any good.

 Instead, she let her gaze sweep the room, taking in her surroundings. Small. White walls. White tile floors. Blinding white lights. It was giving her a headache already, just giving it a glance over. She swept her gaze to the other side. A small closed off space (bathroom?) and a little slit in the wall (for food?). Two very small and uncomfortable-looking beds, and–her heart nearly skipped a beat as she took in the image before her. One of the beds was  _occupied_.

This must have been the person the signs were meant for then, the dangerous subject, except–except he certainly didn’t  _look_  dangerous at all. Whatever his power was, it must be impressive, because otherwise he seemed…really un-intimidating. Lanky and almost child-like laying there curled up on the bed, completely knocked out and from the looks of it beat up, covered in cuts and bruises. Not to mention  _way_ too skinny, with hollow cheeks and tired bags underneath his eyes. She wondered just how long he’d been here, and if she’d soon look the same. She shuddered at the thought.

She was pacing around the room, trying and failing to calm her racing thoughts, to bring herself back from the edge of panic, when the man in the bed woke up with a start. His mouth fell open in shock when the haze of pain finally cleared from his vision and he saw her standing there, like she was the last person he expected to see. Or maybe it was just that he didn’t expect to see a person at all. She wondered how long it had been since he’d interacted with anyone. He looked around him wildly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before his frantic gaze finally fell back on her.

“Why am I not tied down?” he asked, voice hoarse from disuse, with a bemused look on his face, as he brought his knees up to his chest and rubbed his ankles absentmindedly. “They always tie me down. They’re afraid I’ll run away. Which I would, if they didn’t keep finding ways to stop me.”

Realization dawned on her.  _‘Warning: subject high risk for escape._ ’ Somehow, she didn’t think he meant running in the normal sense, not if he was in a place like this. “So that’s your thing, then? Running?”

“Fast, yeah. Really fast,” he frowned, looking at his hands like he’d never seen them before. “Except I don’t feel right. Usually I can feel it. Like…like this power inside me. But it’s just…it’s not there anymore,” his voice got steadily higher as he turned panicked eyes on her, desperate for an answer. “Do you think they finally found a way to take it from me? For their weapons? My speed’s all I have left, I can’t…I can’t lose that.”

And then it hit her. Why they’d brought her here, put her in this room specifically. Why she was useful. They didn’t have to worry about such an important subject escaping, didn’t have to deal with all of the extensive trouble of restraining him every day, when she could just suppress his abilities by the mere fact of being in the same room as him. 

“Ah, no,” she said, offering what she hoped was a placating smile. ”That’d probably be me. I can sort of…make other people’s meta-abilities–or whatever they’re calling them these days–go away, when I’m near them. Like something in me cancels theirs out. It’s kind of the lamest power ever, I know. Isn’t it? I really got the short the short end of the stick there, I’m always sayin–”

“You’re joking,” he spat, cutting her off and narrowing his eyes at her. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”

His hostility took her off guard. ”No, I’m…I’m not. Sorry?”

“Great. Fucking fabulous,” he scowled, shooting her one last glare as he laid back down, turning his back towards her and facing the wall. “I’m never going to get out of here now.”

She made a strangled noise of disbelief and bit back the urge to make a snide remark about how he’d  _clearly_  been doing so great on that front before, but instead she climbed up onto the other bed, squeezed her eyes shut and willed this all to be a bad dream, praying that she’d wake up in her own home, in her own bed, to the familiar smell of coffee fresh from the pot. 

No such luck.

And so it went on like that–her trying to make small talk, to be friendly, because after all, unpleasant though the guy might be, it was  _lonely_  in here. She just wanted someone to talk to, something to do other than count the cracks lining the ceiling, imagining every unrealistic scenario under the sun of her father planning some bold rescue plan at this very moment to bust her out of here. But every time, her attempts at small talk were met with silence, or sharp, cutting remarks, a rolling of eyes, a withering glare. Sometimes, he told her to leave him alone, leveling her with the nastiest look he could muster. Which, considering his would-be cute baby-face, was sort of a difficult task–but somehow he managed. 

Mostly he just ignored her. She wasn’t really sure which was worse. She didn’t even know how much time had passed since she’d been here (there had been crappy, less-than-filling meals slipped in for the both of them every so often, and her stomach was already starting to groan in protest, feeling more and more empty by the second, so she assumed it must _at least_  have been days), and she felt like she was going crazy. Alone with her thoughts in this tiny white room with only one other person, a person who happened to hate her for something she couldn’t even control.

“Can’t you stop that? Whatever you’re doing to me?” he demanded angrily, a few (days? weeks?) later, refusing to look at her, glaring at the wall. She was sure he must be missing his speed a lot all of a sudden, to talk to her first. He always missed it, but it seemed to hit him especially hard in random spurts, and of course he always took it out on her, assuming she was to blame. “If it weren’t for you I could’ve been out of here ages ago.”

“First of all, that’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped, having had enough. “And second of all, no, I can’t. I don’t know how to control it. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped treating me like the enemy here–we’re both in the same shitty situation. It’s not my fault they put me in here to keep you from escaping. Seriously, get over yourself. I’m stuck here too.”

He didn’t seem to be expecting her outburst, and he finally tore his gaze away from the wall, looking at her in surprise. His forehead creased in confusion and she noticed the color starting to creep its way into his cheeks. “What do you mean, you’re stuck…?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you really think I was just in here for fun? No offense, but you’re not exactly proving to be great company right now. And the food is terrible. Why would I be willingly starving, here?”

“No,” he shook his head, looking properly ashamed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Actually, I…I thought you were one of them. You know, working for the people who put me–I mean us, I guess–in here. That’s why I was so angry at you, um…but…”

She huffed and crossed her arms, offended. “Well, I’d guess you’d know that that wasn’t the case if you hadn’t been so mean and spiteful in the first place and actually, you know, engaged in civilized conversation with me.”

“Oh,” he blinked, and then gave her a shaky, embarrassed smile. She dully noted that it was the first time she’d seen him do anything other than scowl. It was a good look on him–like his whole faced changed with just that little up-tick of his lips. He looked softer, kinder. More approachable. Likeable, even. “Uh, yeah. I–sorry, about that. That was really a dick move of me. I shouldn’t have assumed, and…fuck, I’ve been such an asshole, haven’t I? And you’re the only person I’ve spoken to in…in a while, and now you probably hate me, and–”

“Dude, slow down,” she held up a hand to silence him, fighting back a smile. “Yes, you acted like an asshole. And you’re right, you shouldn’t have assumed. But you look like you’ve been through hell here, and I can see why you’d be suspicious, and–well, it looks like we’re the only company each other has in this place, and it’d be nice to have a friend in all of this, so. I forgive you. I’m willing to start over, if you are.”

And then he smiled in earnest, full and bright and friendlier than she’d ever seen him, and yeah, it was a  _really_  good look on him. She almost had half the nerve to tell him so–she deserved more of that smile, after all, after putting up with God-knows how long of pouting and sulking and glaring and generally sour looks from his corner. But she didn’t, although she did file the image away in her memory, silently crossing her fingers that she’d be seeing more of it, now that they’d made their amends.

He hopped off his bed and crossed the room, extending an eager hand toward her. “Barry Allen,” he said, with that same goofy smile still plastered across his face. It was a bit disorienting, honestly, how quickly his entire demeanor had changed, but she supposed he’d been in here much longer than her. He was probably desperate for a friend, excited at the prospect that not everyone in here was…well, evil.

“Iris West,” she replied, accepting his handshake. It was warm and inviting and–strange. She could swear she felt a surge of something as her skin made contact with his, something strange and unfamiliar and _powerful,_  and judging by the way his eyes widened in surprise, she was relatively sure he felt it too. 

And then just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

He blinked at her in surprise and she shook her head, writing it off as some weird effect of her power. She’d never actually touched another meta-human before–maybe it was because of that. Pushing the thought off to the back of her mind, she tilted her head at him, considering.

“So, Bartholomew–” 

“–Don’t call me that!” She grinned wickedly at his horrified expression and filed this information away for later use. Judging by his reaction, it really was his full name. Which was excellent leverage for the future. After all, they were friends now, right? They’d decided that much. And what were friends for if not to collect embarrassing dirt on each other?

“Fine, fine, you’re no fun. Nice name, though. I was just guessing,” she laughed, and he glared at her, although it was different glare than what she was used to from him–this one was all playful, and with none of the heat or anger she’d grown accustomed to in his eyes.

“You know what–I changed my mind. You are evil, after all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, get over it. And you cut me off, by the way,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I was going to say so,  _Barry_ , are you up for a game of twenty questions? We’ve got all the time in the world and nothing better to do than get to know each other.”

“Yeah,” he smiled at her, his eyes bright with excitement at the prospect of doing something fun for the first time in a long time–certainly since he’d been here. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Her answering grin left him blushing. “Excellent.” 

 

* * *

  

Time passed. Days, weeks, maybe even months–it was impossible to know, trapped in the room they were being held in, no windows, no outside sound, really no indication of the outside world at all. They planned escapes they knew would never happen, they comforted each other after one of them would be taken away and come back, beaten and bruised and bloody after being tested on. 

But mostly they just talked. He told her about Bette, the tough but kind woman who had been in here briefly with him, the one who could blow the walls off the place with a single touch, before they’d come to take her away one day. About how she’d struggled and screamed, about how she hadn’t come back after that. His face had darkened when he’d recounted that particular story, and Iris had held his hands steady as they shook.

When things threatened to get too dark, when they both started to worry that Bette’s future was what was in store for them, they talked about happier things, too. About better times, about life before this, about each other, about themselves, about their interests and hobbies and experiences, about everything and nothing all at once.

And they laughed together. Which, considering their situation, was nothing short of a miracle. They smiled. They  _made_  each other smile. Iris wasn’t sure if it was the whole close-proximity thing, if it was because Barry was sort of the only human contact she’d had other than the men in the white coats for…well, for a while, or if he was just sort of someone she’d been meant to meet in some way or another, but being with him felt right. And despite the people keeping them here trying so hard to tear the two of them down, to break them, weaken their spirits, smother their hope, she felt strangely whole. She felt…well, she’d grown to feel a whole damn lot for him, and she could tell he felt it for her, too.

And then one day, all their talk of escaping suddenly became a very possible reality, and all thanks to the very people keeping them there. She overheard the people testing her talking about it, talking about _her_ , after they’d thought she was out cold, and she’d struggled not to give herself away, to keep a straight face and not let them knew that she knew. When they’d finally tossed her back into the room, she refused to budge until she was sure they had left, and she waited until she could feel Barry kneeling at her side.

He rested a comforting arm on her shoulder, and reeled back in surprise at the excitement shining in her eyes when she finally lifted her head, turning to face him. She gripped his arm and held it tight, grinning at the familiar surge of power she felt whenever they touched, reveling in the new knowledge of what it meant.

“Barry listen–feel that?” She whispered excitedly, not pausing long enough to allow for an answer. “Of course you do, it’s been happening for a while now, it’s just–I found out what it means. Turns out I don’t just suppress people’s abilities–I can  _channel_  them, if I focus hard enough.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she squeezed her eyes shut, focusing with all her might on not blocking that power she felt sparking off his skin to hers, but instead on channeling it,  _using_  it. When she opened her eyes again, she let out an elated laugh, bringing the hand that had been gripping his arm up close to her face, watching as it buzzed and vibrated. She pushed herself off the ground, pulling him up with her, and darted across the room, faster than it took her to blink.

“No way,” she said with a breathless little laugh, turning bright eyes on him and grinning hugely, as he looked back at her with awe. And then he tore his gaze away, looking down at his own hands, clapping one over his mouth when he noticed that his were vibrating again, too.

“Iris…Iris!” he exclaimed, crossing the room and sweeping her up in his arms in a matter of seconds. “Oh my God, I don’t know what you did, but you did it. You’re controlling your–your thing! My speed is back, and you have it too, this is…this is amazing!” he laughed, twirling her around before finally setting her back on her feet, beaming at her. “ _Thank you_.”

She grinned in delight, high off this new discovery, when it occurred to her. She sucked in a deep breath and gripped his arm tight again, regarding him with wide eyes.

“But do you know what this means, Barry?” she babbled excitedly, feeling the power surging through her like electricity crackling beneath her skin. “ _It means we can get out_.”

Her smile faltered upon seeing the way his fell, as she took in his torn expression, and her heart sunk in confusion and disappointment as he shook his head. “Iris I–I can’t.” 

“ _Why?_  Barry, this is our chance,” Iris whispered urgently, keeping her voice low and struggling to hide the hurt in it. “If you have your powers back, and I can use your powers too, we can actually escape together!”

His expression looked pained as he bit his lip, casting a glance towards the door. “Iris…there are other people in here. People like us. Like Bette. I can’t…I can’t just leave them here, not when I know I can get out, now.”

His eyes were pleading when he met her gaze again, like he was begging her to understand, like he was afraid she might hate him for suggesting it. Which was exactly the opposite of what she was feeling, because as his words sunk in, as she realized what he was saying, she felt herself fall just a little bit more in love with him. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, not soft or hesitant at all, but hard and laced with need. This was something she was sure of. This was something that felt right, when nothing else really did. After a few moments of stunned disbelief, of standing there, frozen in shock, he kissed her back, and with just as much desperation. When she finally pulled away, he blinked at her, eyes wide and dazed in equal parts confusion and delight.

“Why did you do that?” he breathed, eyes still fixed on her lips, wet and red and swollen from his own.

She placed her hands on either side of his face and forced his gaze forward, looking him straight in the eye. She cleared her throat, and was embarrassed to find that she was fighting back tears as she spoke again. “Because you’re a fucking idiot. A big, heroic idiot, and I–I kind of love you for it.”

It was the closest she could get to saying  _‘I love you’_ without actually saying it, because something about saying the words outright felt ominous. Like a death wish, and too dramatic for her taste. She’d seen it in movies, had read it in books. The only times people said _‘I love you’_ to the people they loved before that person did something stupid and reckless and unbelievably dangerous were when they didn’t think that person would be coming back. And that was something she couldn’t afford to think about, not now. 

He was still looking at her with that awestruck expression, that glassy look in his eye, and she took it as a good indication that he felt pretty much the same about her as she felt about him. Not that she really doubted it, of course…but it was nice to be sure. To see firsthand the kind of effect she had on him, how her touch had left him reeling. She could watch him look at her like that all day, honestly, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, but as it stood, that wasn’t exactly the case. They had bigger problems to worry about right now than just the two of them. Others. Escape.  _Soon_.

“Barry,” she waved a hand in front of his face, and he blinked stupidly, his mind still in a fog. “Barry, we have to figure out how we’re going to do this. And soon–I don’t think we have much time before they come…now that I think about it, I’m sure they must have some sort of hidden cameras in here and–we need to get a move on if we’re going to get the others out, too.”

That seemed to get his attention. “We?” he echoed, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yes, _we_. I’m coming with you, of course.”

His eyes immediately cleared, his expression darkening as he shook his head firmly. “No, you’re not. It’s too dangerous and–”

“ _Barry Allen_ ,” she growled, stomping her foot down and jabbing a finger at his chest. “I am  _not_ leaving you behind. Do not even  _try_  to argue with me about this, because you  _will_  lose, and you’re already wasting time we don’t have. I can handle myself–I think we’ve already established that.”

He looked conflicted, like he really wanted to protest, but he knew her well enough by now to know that she wasn’t going to back down. And she was right–they really didn’t have  _time_ to argue right now.

“Alright,” he sighed, defeated, “then we need a game plan.”

Iris nodded, biting the inside of her cheek in thought. “Well, first things first, we need to get this door open–and before they do.”

“Right,” Barry nodded in agreement as they both directed their attention to the near-impenetrable looking metal door. He scrunched up his nose as he considered it. “I used to be able to phase through solid objects, you know, but I haven’t done it in so long, and I don’t even think I’d have the space in here to build up that kind of speed, anyway. Plus you’re new to my powers, too–you’ve never done that before. It’s too risky, but I can’t think of anything else…”  

She looked down at her hands, intermittently buzzing with power they weren’t used to, and an idea occurred to her. “How about you vibrate it open? If that makes sense. You can vibrate your hands, right? Maybe if you do that long enough against the door, it’ll weaken it?” She bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself. It had sounded a lot better in her head. She let out a sigh of relief as she watched him consider it and then nod eagerly in agreement.

“Yeah, that could work. It’s definitely worth a try, anyway.” He pursued his lips, contemplating their next move. “Okay, so here’s what we’ll do–each of us can sweep the place, round up whoever we come across and then meet up outside…if we can find outside, that is. If not we’re screwed, so we’re basically going out on a limb here, but…I’ll take right, you head left? That way we can cover more ground in less time,” Barry suggested, his mouth set, wearing a steely, determined look that Iris had never quite seen on him before. A million reasons why splitting up would  _not_ be a good idea floated through her mind, and she wanted to argue, but in the end she knew that if they really wanted to get everyone out in the limited time they had, it was the most practical. She swallowed hard. Her throat felt dry with fear as she responded.

“Yeah. Yeah, that works.”

Barry let out a deep breath, placing his hands on the door, leaning his weight against it as he shot her an anxious look. She tried to give him an encouraging smile, but the muscles in her face didn’t seem to be working right, her whole body frozen in apprehension. Still, the sight of her alone must have done the trick well enough, because he nodded to himself and turned back towards the door, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation, and started to vibrate his hands. It wasn’t easy, and it took longer than either of them would have liked, but he kept on vibrating them until the bolts holding the door in place finally started to come loose, throwing anxious glances over his shoulder all the while even though they were the only ones in the room. Iris couldn’t blame him–she was sure they were being watched, too. 

Finally, after what was probably only seconds but what felt like hours, the heavy metal door fell down with a loud  _‘crash’,_ onethat seemed to make the walls shake,that she could practically feel echo in her bones.Almost immediately red lights began flashing, and alarms blared so loud all around them it took everything in her not to clap her hands over her ears and sink to the ground to drown out the noise.

Barry gave her a look, and she found her own terror reflected in his eyes. She steeled herself, giving him a sharp nod and willing herself to be strong, for him as much as for herself. He nodded back and took her hand, squeezing it tight as they stepped out of the room together, out from the space they’d been stuck in for so long, to the sound of rushing footsteps–closer and closer with each passing second.

She turned to Barry one last time, wanting so badly to say those three little words, the ones that had been burning at the back of her throat since the second they’d started this. But it felt too much like a goodbye, like a warning that they might see each other again, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it. There would be plenty of times to say it when they saw each other again, after this was all over. After they escaped. And they  _would_ see each other again, she’d make sure of it. So instead, she only said two.

“Be safe.”

He opened his mouth to respond, and she could see everything he wanted to say in his eyes, even greater than all the fear. He wanted to say those three words just as much as she did, and she thought he just might be about to–but then his eyes widened in terror, and she didn’t have to look behind her to know what he was seeing, because she could hear the pounding of footsteps rounding the corner. Instead of three words, or even two, all he had time to give her was one.

Fear gripped her heart, holding it tight as his fingers slipped away from hers, as she felt the ghost of his touch on her palm already fading, her hand cold and empty without his.

_“Run.”_

 


End file.
